


The Night Before

by situation_normal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beaches, Chapter 1 pov Rey (Star Wars), Chapter 2 pov Ben Solo, Cohabiting, F/M, Face-Sitting, Falling In Love, Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Fucking on the ferry, Light Angst, Mentions of Violence, Narration changes along with narrators state of mind, One Night Stands, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, Reylo - Freeform, Shetland Islands, Shetland is kinda magic like that, Smut, Two Shot, puffins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-09 17:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17411105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/situation_normal/pseuds/situation_normal
Summary: "So what are you doing here? Holiday?" Rey asked the bulky, black haired stranger next to her at the ferry bar."My uncle lives on the islands. I'm going there to beat the shit out of him."Huh. American.Rey forced a fake smile. Yikes. What a weirdo. Hopefully she wouldn't meet him again while she was on her internship.Read: Rey meets a hot dude on the ferry to Shetland. He's a weird guy, but one night wouldn't do any harm, right? How likely is she to ever meet him again, anyway?Newsflash, Rey. Shetland is not that big. The answer is very, very likely to end up sharing a house with him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [msdes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdes/gifts).



> I did a little pile of <140 character drabbles on Twitter, and the beginning of this was one of them that @msdes said she liked. I've been meaning to write a fic for you for ages, so I hope you enjoy this one. Thank you for your boosts and thank you for being such a great reader!
> 
> This fic is inspired by the song of the same name by The Beatles, the song is quoted at the start of the fic.

_We said our goodbyes, ah, the night before_

_Love was in your eyes, ah, the night before_

_Now today I find you have changed your mind_

_Treat me like you did the night before_

 

_Last night is a night I will remember you by_

_When I think of things we did, it makes me want to cry_

 

_Were you telling lies, ah, the night before?_

_Was I so unwise, ah, the night before?_

_When I held you near you were so sincere_

_Treat me like you did the night before_

_Like the night before_

 

* * *

 

"So what are you doing here? Holiday?" Rey asked the bulky, black haired stranger next to her at the ferry bar.

"My uncle lives on the islands. I'm going there to beat the shit out of him."

Huh. American.

Rey forced a fake smile. Yikes. What a weirdo. Hopefully she wouldn't meet him again while she was on her internship.

She took a deep chug from her pint to take the top inch off—a measure to prevent herself from spilling it as she made her way back to her table while the enormous boat rocked gently on its journey.

This was going to be a long night. A new adventure lay ahead of her. A new life. First she just had to get through the twelve hour overnight ferry crossing without a fucking cabin.

Her contingency plan had been to find a hot dude who would be willing to share his cabin and maybe his dick for the night. As excited as she was to begin her new life in the Shetland Islands—counting birds, no less—she was well aware that the self imposed exile was very likely to be a dry period in terms of her sex life.

Of course the first attractive man she’d come across had to be an unapologetic violent dickbag.

She dropped herself into a corner booth and set her drink down on the table. May as well make herself comfortable here, since she’d be camping out for the night. She flicked her eyes briefly around the bar as she raised her drink to her lips for another sip, and paused in the motion when she noticed the man at the bar again.

Staring. At her.

_What the fuck, Weird Dude?_ She almost mouthed it at him. She was certain he’d be able to read her lips, judging by the fully focused way he was openly gawping.

He appeared to register that she was staring back a moment later, and reset his features—closing his slightly parted lips and clenching his jaw. He got up from the bar stool and rubbed both hands over his face like he was trying to force out whatever thought had been going through his head.

And then he was walking towards her. Sitting himself down at the other side of her booth with his tumbler of whiskey. Biting his— _what the_ —criminally soft looking lower lip and offering what Rey could only assume was an attempt at a confident smile.

It came out looking like a slightly-less-pronounced scowl.

Rey completed the action of taking a sip of beer at exactly the wrong moment, because that was when he decided to introduce himself and by God. Rey was not ready.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry about that, I was distracted when you spoke to me. I’m Kylo Ren—”

Shit. She snort-laughed half a mouthful of beer in his face before he could continue.

Kylo grimaced and wiped his face with the sleeve of his black cable-knit jumper. “Is something funny?”

Rey couldn’t answer, because the laughter had brought on a round of choke-coughing, and her eyes were watering. This guy was a freaking riot.

He visibly ground his teeth as Rey wiped her eyes on her hoodie.

“Ahem—no, well, yes. Sorry, your name is a little funny.” His eye twitched and Rey bit her lip to smother her grin. “Sorry, but it is. It sounds made-up.”

“Is it really so hilarious for a person to use an alias?”

“Did you think of that alias when you were fifteen?”

The tips of his ears that Rey could see peeking out from under his— _oh shit_ — really fucking touchable looking hair, turned pink. That was endearing. Okay. _Okay_ , she needed to reassess some things.

She put her drink down and leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest to look at him. _Really_ look at him.

He was big. She knew that. That was the reason she'd even spoken to him in the first place. Rey had a thing for big guys. _Let’s be real here—who doesn't?_ But it seemed like he might have a bit more going for him.

Those lips, for one thing. That hair, for another. Under closer scrutiny, his eyes were pretty damn soft, too. His nose was big—previous experience told her that that could only be a benefit when it came to face sitting. His prominent ears were adorable. His broad muscles were clearly visible, even through his thick woollen jumper.

Beautiful. He was beautiful. A beautiful arsehole with a chip on his shoulder.

“Am I wasting my time here?” His voice was something to consider, too.

Not exactly relationship material, but that wasn’t really what Rey had in mind anyway. She was about to spend the next year of her life counting puffins on one of the most remote islands in the UK. The chances of her seeing him again—even in Shetland—were relatively low.

She smiled at him and held out her hand. “I’m Rey.”

+

“Harder, Kylo—”

He didn’t need telling twice. He gripped the plastic headboard of the too-small twin berth in his tiny cabin with one hand and slammed into her again. And again. And fuck. This had been a good decision.

She had been right about the nose thing. And the muscles thing. Holy shit, she could feel herself building to another orgasm already as he fucked her hard into the mattress.

He flipped them over so she was straddling his dick and he sat up, pulling her into a needy—and very sloppy—kiss that didn’t stop at her lips, trailing down her throat and sucking marks onto her neck as she rode him.

“Fuck—ah—you are so fucking perfect,” he groaned as she felt herself clenching around him.

She moaned—not quietly—and another pointed thump from their disgruntled neighbours sounded through the thin cabin wall.

Kylo fell back on the bed and looked up at her, his jaw sagging and his eyes glazing over. His grip on her hips tightened for a moment—hard enough to bruise—and he grunted, hips jerking beneath her as he came.

 

Rey slipped out of bed without waking him when an announcement blared over the tannoy system—the nasal voice of the captain, alerting them of their arrival in Lerwick.

It was 7am, and Kylo didn’t stir. She showered in a rush, amusing herself with the thought of Kylo attempting to stand up straight in the tiny shower that she could barely fit in herself.

He was still out of it by the time she’d dressed herself and prepared to leave. She smiled at the way his sleeping face smooshed up against the pillow. Totally vulnerable and relaxed. Cute.

Rey couldn’t resist. She crouched down and kissed his mouth one final time before creeping out of the door as quietly as she could. Surely he’d wake up with the next announcement.

By the time she’d finished her disappointing breakfast and watery tea, he was up. She knew because he walked into the reception area at exactly the same moment she did.

They stood in silence, just looking at each other for what felt like a full minute, before he swallowed thickly and averted his eyes.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” he said awkwardly.

Rey smiled at him and nodded. “Probably not. But, I had a lot of fun—a _lot_ of fun—last night. Thanks.”

“Can I—I mean—could we... do you think we could exchange numbers?”

Ugh. She liked him. She really did. And he was great at sex. But any kind of lingering relationship between them was just not going to happen. Rey didn’t do lingering relationships of any kind.

Lingering relationships meant pain.

Lingering relationships ended.

The longer they lingered, the more painful it was when they left.

Rey had already lingered too long.

“Kylo... that’s not really... what this was.”

“Oh.” His face crumpled and he rubbed the hand that wasn’t holding his case over his mouth. Rey’s traitor heart squeezed. “Okay.”

She followed him at a distance down the gangway into the ferry terminal and out into the windy grey Shetland morning. He didn’t look back at her, just made his way straight out of the car park to the nearest car hire centre.

Lerwick was just about as uninspiring and grim as any seaside town. Probably a bit colder. This wasn't a great time to realise that her summer jacket was not going to cut it at 60° North of the Equator, even in May.

She stood outside for ten minutes, freezing her metaphorical bollocks off, before she gave up and stalked back into the terminal building. Her ride was late, apparently.

The terminal door swung open again at 10am, after Rey had consumed two more cups of watery tea courtesy of the ferry staff. A scruffy looking older man with a grey beard and hair that looked too long from lack of care, rather than choice, shuffled over to her and raised an eyebrow.

“Rey Johnson?” he asked gruffly.

Rey nodded and got to her feet. “Luke Skywalker?”

He nodded in return and inclined his head towards the door before turning and walking straight back the way he’d come. Rey followed him.

There was no apology for his lateness as he led her towards a beat-up old pick-up truck. The interior smelled like weed and stale tobacco. Rey hoped he’d be up for sharing.

He drove them in silence out of the town, and the scenery opened up around them. Mossy green and purple-brown heather covered hills surrounded them. Tumbledown dry-stone walls and broken croft houses dotted the landscape. Sheep. Ponies. Sea. Peace.

It took them an hour to get to the next point of their journey. Another ferry—this time thankfully only a twenty minute trip between the Mainland and the smaller island of Yell. Shetland was bigger than she’d pictured in her mind's eye. There were fewer trees; hardly any.

Yell had more sandy beaches. More rusty abandoned cars littering the roadside. Luke remained silent. Rey was grateful.

It took half an hour to get to the next car ferry, and a ten minute crossing before they were finally there. Unst. Her new home. The wind had died down during their drive, and the island was covered in a thick layer of fog.

Luke drove slowly but confidently through the mist, weaving his way expertly round the single-track roads. He finally slowed and pulled off onto a driveway, rumbling over a cattle grid and down the bumpy track to what she assumed would be their home.

Rey could make out two houses through the fog, and two cars. Another pick-up truck, this one was much newer looking and had the charity logo emblazoned on the side. And a tiny, mint green Fiat 500.

“What the—” Luke had barely pulled up the handbrake when he shoved open his door and stepped out. Rey followed him.

“What?” she asked, confused by his sudden change in demeanour.

“I just... wasn’t expecting any visitors. I don’t recognise this car. Probably lost tourists.” He paced around the car, peering in through the windows before glancing back up at Rey. “There’s no-one inside. It’s a hire car—”

_No_.

“—maybe it’s ramblers. They should be careful walking out in this weather.”

_It’s not ramblers._ Somehow, Rey knew. She knew exactly who had driven that car here. Her stomach churned. _Please, no._

“The white house is yours. I’ll show you around. I got a fire going before I left. Your Wi-Fi isn’t set up yet, the guy takes three weeks to get to any appointments up here so you’ll just have to go without for a while. There’s DVDs next to your TV.”

Rey was only half listening as she walked numbly behind him towards the tiny white cottage. She knew he was here somewhere. Where the fuck was he? She could basically feel his goddam presence around her. It was unnerving.

Luke pushed the door open and gestured for her to follow him inside. The cottage was warm and brightly lit. A modern kitchen with what seemed to be a weirdly out of place solid fuel fired Rayburn at one end, pumping out heat. Another small stove was set into the wall in the cosy living area which contained a squashy patchwork couch.

“The bedrooms are upstairs, doesn’t matter which one you use, they’re equally small. This place has been a holiday let up until two weeks ago, so it’s been well maintained. No smoking indoors.”

Rey nodded along distractedly. He must be in Luke’s house. Was he hiding somewhere waiting to jump her new boss before she’d even lived one single fucking day in her new place? She hadn’t even counted a single damn puffin yet and she could already sense the end of her new found security.

Well, fuck that.

“I’ll leave you for now, then, kid. I’ve got my own chores to do, and I’m sure you’ll be wanting to get settled. I’ll knock on the door tomorrow and we can go count birds or whatever. If the fog has lifted.”

“Wait—Mister Skywalker—”

He rolled his eyes. “You can call me Luke.”

“Of course, Luke.” She cleared her throat. “Can I see your house?”

Okay. That came out weird. Clearly Luke thought so, too, because his eyebrows had disappeared behind his hair and his blue eyes widened semi-sarcastically.

How do you skirt around the subject of ‘I think your deranged nephew, who I had sex with last night by the way, might be waiting for you inside your house ready to beat the living crap out of you for some unknown to me reason?’

What if she was wrong? She would sound insane. Ugh.

“What I mean is... I didn’t buy any food. I’ve got nothing in the house. Can I come round to eat something?”

“That big truck outside is for you to use. There’s a shop in the village I can direct you to.”

“But I’m so tired from all the travelling! Won’t you at least offer me a cuppa before I have to go out and buy groceries? I’ve just moved 800 miles across the country. I need a hot drink.”

Luke heaved a deep sigh and shrugged. “Whatever. Fine, come on over.”

Rey's insides were in knots as she followed Luke the hundred yards to the small, red Nordic style bungalow that he called home. Should she try to get in first? Oh, God. This was horrible. _Horrible_.

“I take it you’re alright with dogs?” he asked conversationally as he twisted the handle of the unlocked door.

And then he opened the door, and Kylo was there because of course he was there. Holding a baseball bat above his head with and expression that was somewhere between uncontrollable rage and for some reason, terror.

“Kylo!!” Rey shouted at the top of her voice at the same moment that Luke gasped out a different name.

“Ben?”

Kylo’s head snapped up at the sound of Rey’s voice and he dropped the bat, wincing when it clipped the side of his head. Not undeservedly, to be fair.

“...Rey?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “What are you—”

“Ben?” Luke repeated. “What in the fresh hell are you doing in my _house?!_ ”

_Ben_. It suited him. Kylo didn’t suit the awkward, angry, soft, hard, dorky, sexy contradictory combination of guys that he really seemed to be. Kylo only acknowledged half of those traits. The dorky half.

Ben clenched his jaw. Something she’d noticed him doing several times when he appeared to be trying to keep his emotions in check. “I need to get out of here. I’m taking Artoo for a walk.”

Luke cut off his exit, and the blue merle border collie at Ben’s feet whined. The old man reached back and pulled Rey into the house, slamming the door behind them.

“Explain,” he growled, flicking his eyes from Ben to Rey and back. “And who the fuck is ‘Kilo?’”

+

He was in her kitchen. Ben was in her kitchen. The kitchen that she hadn’t even used yet. Leaning against the counter, staring at her again with those eyes.

_You’ll have to stay with Rey,_ Luke had said after they’d explained, skirting around... certain details. _I only have one bedroom,_ he’d said.

Ben hadn’t taken his eyes off her the whole time. Every time Luke had addressed him, he’d clenched his jaw and pointedly ignored him.

“So... Ben,” she bit out, emphasising his name. “You’re here to beat the shit out of your uncle.”

“He deserves it. He ruined my life.”

Rey had to force herself not to roll her eyes. “You’re what, thirty? You have a lot of life left that he doesn’t necessarily need to be a part of. Whatever happened between you two, can’t you just forget it and move on?”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

_What?_ “I—How dare you? You know exactly nothing about my life. You think you know me because we fucked once? I’m this close—” She demonstrated how close by pinching her thumb and forefinger within a millimetre of each other. “—to sending you to your room right now.”

He scoffed. “I know what the inside of your vagina tastes like, I think that counts for something.”

Rey was so fucking incredulous she couldn’t even speak.

“I’m here to kill my past. Settle an old score so I _can_ move on. What are _you_ doing? Running away from reality and not letting yourself get close to anyone?” he continued.

It may have been childish. Okay, it definitely, definitely was. But that didn’t stop Rey from flipping him off and stomping up the stairs to the ever-so-slightly larger of the two bedrooms, slamming the door behind her.

Bastard. Fucking utter complete twat-head bastard arsehole. Wanker. How the fuck. She knew deep down that his words hurt so badly because they rang true. That didn’t make her any less angry.

She slumped down onto the small double bed, face first, and cried.

 

They walked out onto the tiny landing at the same time the next morning. It was awkward. Rey had stayed in her bedroom for the rest of the day until she’d eventually fallen asleep. Ben had knocked. She’d ignored him. There was a small pile of food outside her door.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, trying to catch her eye. “Rey, I’m sorry.”

Rey shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

He followed her down the stairs. The kitchen was stocked so she poured herself a bowl of cereal and ate it messily at the kitchen counter. Ben watched her, his lips pressed together and his brow creased. He had a thick growth of stubble on his chin and upper lip already.

“It matters,” he finally said. “Can we—I mean—I feel like we should talk about some of this stuff. Without being defensive. We have to live together.”

“We don’t have to; you could just leave. Or are you biding your time here until you find the opportune moment to bump your uncle off?”

“I'm not gonna 'bump him off.' And that’s not the only reason I’m here anymore. That’s sort of... taken a back seat.” Whatever that meant.

“Luke didn’t seem all that shocked to find you in his house with a baseball bat. What’s that about?”

It was Ben’s turn to shrug. “He knows what he did. He’s probably expected me for a while. I used to live here y’know. In this house, with Luke, before the other house was built.”

The sun was warm where it was streaming through the window. The fog had lifted. Rey wanted to get out. “Can we go for a walk?”

They walked. Rey hadn’t realised the cottage was so close to the cliffs. Luke was out on his own with a spliff and an iPad, counting birds. Ben knew a good path that took them down to a rocky beach.

Rey stumbled and he took her hand. She shook it off straight away, but the feeling of his touch remained for longer than she cared to admit to herself.

They didn’t talk. They took turns throwing rocks as far out into the sea as they could. They smoked a joint Ben had pilfered from Luke's stash. Rey was starving by the time they made it back to the cottage.

Ben made mince and tatties for tea. Rey had seconds. They didn’t talk.

They watched an entire series of Blackadder. The couch was small. Rey didn’t pull away when Ben draped an arm around her shoulders.

Or when he kissed her chastely on the lips before they went into their separate bedrooms to sleep.

The early daylight startled Rey awake at 3am. She groaned at the time when she checked her phone. This was gonna take some getting used to. Her bed was cold.

Ben was snoring. He was probably warm. Rey wrapped herself up tighter in her duvet and tried to sleep.

The days seemed to blur together after a while, passing in much the same way. Luke showed her how to count the puffins, Ben followed from a distance, but joined her for her shifts—if they could be called that.

They didn’t talk unless it was necessary. Ben cooked. They watched DVDs in the evenings until the Wi-Fi was sorted, then they watched Netflix. He kissed her goodnight. Rey was always cold. She never snuck into his bed.

Ben wouldn’t leave. He didn’t leave.

Three months passed—six. Ben grew a goatee.

She loved him and it didn’t frighten her anymore.

When he kissed her tonight she pulled him closer. He followed her silently into her bedroom and she helped him out of his clothes. His hands shook as he unhooked her bra.

She didn’t ask him to fuck her harder; not tonight. She wanted tonight to last. He whispered desperate endearments and praise into her ear as he fucked her slowly. Made love to her. She cried when she came.

They talked. Rey told him about her past; her parents abandoning her to a life of growing up in the system; being passed from one loveless home to the next. Ben listened. He cried with her. He told her she wasn’t alone; that she was everything to him.

Rey extended her year’s contract.

It didn’t end up being a dry spell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know if this worked. It started off all real-y, and ended all dreamy, and skippy, but that's kind of just how it flowed. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just the same story from Ben's POV. I feel like we all regret that I didn't write Rey sitting on Ben's face in chapter one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the chapter two that no-one asked for. I love writing Ben's POV so I couldn't resist.
> 
> Thanks you so much to the practically perfect in every way **[Kate_Reid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Reid)** for beta reading this chapter and reassuring me that it is not pointless. Check out her fics for introspective canonverse short stories. ILY

The memories stabbed through Kylo’s brain like a series of hot pokers.

Waking up in the middle of the night to find his uncle in his bedroom. Angry. Yelling. They had fought. Ben had run. All those years in the military.

His knuckles turned white around his glass. Now, he was a grown man. He was bigger and stronger than that decrepit old bastard and he was ready for revenge.

"—Holiday?”

The boat rocked, and the tinkling voice half-broke him from his bitter musings.

“My uncle lives on the islands,” he ground out. Fucking holiday. Stupid fucking question. “I’m going there to beat the shit out of him.”

He spared the speaker a passing glance and—shit. _Shit_. Sitting beside him was the single most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. No two ways about it.

And Ben Solo was an idiot. Because she was smiling one of those forced, nervous smiles that people give someone when they realise they've struck up conversation with a complete fucking nutbar.

She took a hurried swig of her beer and escaped his company, fleeing to a booth at the back of the ferry bar.

Ben— _Kylo_ —Ben Solo was an idiot—Kylo Ren was a man in control—Kylo couldn’t take his eyes off her.

The way her body sagged with a disappointed sigh as she leaned back into the booth. The way her face scrunched up—it was pretty likely that she was chastising herself for speaking to him. Crap.

The way she picked up her glass with those delicate hands. _Why_. Why the fuck hadn’t he just said, ‘Yes, I’m here on vacation. What about you?’ How hard would that have really been?

He needed to work on his people skills.

Like, urgently, apparently, because that was the moment that Kylo noticed her staring back at him. Staring back with a ‘what the fuck is this weirdo staring at me for?’ expression on her face and a pint glass half raised to her pretty pink lips.

Now or never. He swallowed thickly and got up from his seat, scrubbing his hands over his face in an attempt to clear as much crazy bastard from his demeanour as possible before he approached her. 

She narrowed her eyes at him as he settled himself in the booth. He smiled at her apologetically and cleared his throat as she finally took another draught of beer. 

“Sorry about that; I was distracted when you spoke to me. I’m Kylo Ren—” 

Before he could get to the part where he asked her name, she had choked on her drink and sprayed his face with whatever amount of beer she hadn’t managed to swallow—not a small amount—in a fit of unexpected giggles. 

Was it something he’d said? He wiped his face on his sleeve and asked her what was so funny, trying his best not to get too invested in the way her nose crinkled up when she smiled.

His name. Fuck stupid Ben Solo for thinking up such a ridiculous alias.

“Did you think of that alias when you were fifteen?”

He felt the warmth of a blush creep up his neck as he admitted to himself that, yes, fifteen year old Ben Solo had in fact thought up the name, and had indeed thought it was pretty cool.

She leaned back into her seat and bit her lip. Fuck. He tried to keep his expression neutral as he watched her eyes trace over him. Silently assessing. Was she trying to pick a fight with him?

“Am I wasting my time here?” he asked. Because if she wasn’t interested, he’d rather just return to wallowing in his own misery at the bar than have the only girl he'd ever felt so powerfully attracted to sit here laughing in his face.

She didn’t answer for another moment, then nodded almost imperceptibly, as if to herself.

She smiled at him and held out her hand. “I’m Rey.”

Rey.

_Rey_. 

+ 

“Fuck, yes, Kylo—”

It was a stupid fucking name. Ben wrapped his fist around his cock and pumped a couple times, gripping her thigh with the other as she rode his face. 

She moaned wantonly when he nudged her clit with his nose, and he felt a fresh wave of her wetness leak over his lips. Fuck. Fuck, she was everything.

He took her hips in both his hands and angled her so he could swipe a broad stroke of his tongue over her cunt and suck on her clit.

The neighbours in the next cabin bashed on the wall when she squeaked out another moan of pleasure. He could do this forever.

Rey, it turned out, could not. Because she climbed off him and begged for his dick, and holy fuck. Ben was all too willing to give it to her.

She asked him to fuck her hard. He didn’t need asking twice. But he wanted to kiss her. He hadn’t been this close to another human in... god. A long time.

She was perfect. So perfect. He told her as much as he felt her pretty little pussy flutter around him, pulling him into his own mind-blowing orgasm. 

The bed was too small for two people. There was another bed, but he pulled her into his chest, unwilling to lose any kind of contact between them. Rey sighed contentedly and melted into him, kissing him softly along his jaw and nuzzling his ear.

This was the reason he was here. Her. Rey. Nothing else. 

This was fate.

 

In the morning, she was gone. It was like he’d dreamed her up. He would’ve believed that, too, if he didn’t know for a fact that his imagination wasn’t capable of conjuring up something so pleasant.

Plus, he could still smell her on his hands. He could still fucking taste her on his lips.

It was ridiculous—he knew it was ridiculous—but a lump rose in his throat. She hadn’t stayed. She didn’t want him; nobody wanted him. He was used to that. But it still hurt.

He reluctantly washed his hands and face in the bathroom washbasin which, just like the rest of the too-small cabin, was clearly designed with fucking leprechauns in mind. He didn’t even attempt to get in the shower.

He needed to refocus. Getting her painfully distracting smell off of him worked to a degree.

Luke. He needed to get off this fucking boat and find a rental car.

He grabbed his case and lurched out the cabin door. The sooner he was gone, the better. The reception area was only a short walk from the cabins, it took him about thirty seconds to get there and—

And Rey was there. Standing in front of him like a vision. His mind went blank. All he could see was her.

Then he remembered that she’d left. That she didn’t want him. 

He broke their eye contact. “I guess I’ll see you around.” 

It was unlikely, considering his destination. She hadn’t told him where she was headed, but he assumed she'd be staying on the Mainland. 

“Probably not. But I had a lot of fun—a _lot_ of fun—last night. Thanks.”

A tiny sliver of hope—maybe more desperation than hope—lit up at her words. She’d had fun. A _lot_ of fun. She'd said it twice for God’s sake.

“Can I—I mean—could we... do you think we could exchange numbers?” Desperate. Yes. Even to his own ears. But he was desperate for her.

There was pity in her eyes. And maybe a little exasperation. And he knew what she was going to say.

“Kylo... that’s not really... what this was.”

“Oh.” He already knew that. He already knew that and it was fine. He was fine. _It’s not like I needed a heart, anyway._ “Okay.”

He turned away from her and walked out of the ferry. He could hear her behind him on the gangway; he didn't look back.

Luke. He was here for Luke. Fuck fate.

The car rental company gave him the most ridiculous tiny bubble car they had. Apparently it was _all_ they had. Ben considered just going to a dealer and buying a fucking truck, but his blood was up, and he just wanted to get there.

He was uncomfortable, even with the seat all the way back. By the time he made it to Toft for the first car ferry, his legs were cramping, so he got out of the car for a smoke and leaned over the barrier to watch Yell come into view.

The wind was nostalgic. The ferry crossings. The smell of the air. The open sea; the open skies.

It hadn’t all been bad. He had a lot of good memories here.

Luke had fucked all that. Ben had been little more than a kid. The hippie bastard hadn’t thought to sit down with him and talk about what it meant to go into combat after he’d found his internet history.

He’d been aggressively recruited by the military when he'd missed his home and wanted to find a way back. His parents had rejected him, and then his uncle had gone against his own pacifist principles when he’d found out.

Fucking hypocrite.

Ben spat into the sea and got back in the car when the ferry prepared to dock. Not far now.

An hour and another ferry crossing later, and he was pulling onto the bumpy driveway of Luke’s croft. 

There was a new house; a red, Nordic style bungalow, and there was an RSPB pick-up truck outside. The old house was still there. He parked his elf car and made for the cottage first.

It was empty. Empty in a way that made it clear nobody lived in it. Clean and tidy to a clinical degree--Luke must be using it as a holiday rental. The fires were on, though. Maybe he had guests due today. That could complicate things for Ben, but he was single minded in his determination.

_Nothing_ could distract him from this.

The red house was unlocked. Of course. Nobody locked anything here. Luke’s old dog, Artoo, was still kicking. He remembered Ben and wagged his tail. Ben apologised pre-emptively for maiming his master. 

Luke wasn’t home. His house stank of weed. Ben found a full baggie on the coffee table and pocketed it. He sat down on the couch and heaved a sigh. It was just like Luke to be late for his own beating.

Ben looked out the window to see a heavy fog settling outside. It seemed fitting.

Half an hour passed before he heard the rumble of a truck outside. A wooden baseball bat was leaning up against the wall in the corner of the room. A memento from home. Ben smirked.

It took Luke another twenty minutes to make it to his front door. Ben was impatient. He heard his uncle’s voice outside and he felt his hackles raise. All his rage bubbled up ready to burst as he raised the bat above his head.

And fear. A memory of the fear from that night.

The door handle turned, and suddenly Luke was there. Right fucking there and Ben was angry and scared shitless all at once until—

“Kylo!!”

Ben dropped the bat.

All the air was sucked from his lungs at the sight of her. And maybe a little at the crack on the head he got from the falling bat.

Rey was here. _Rey_. She was here and suddenly nothing else mattered again.

+ 

The bedroom door slammed behind her and Ben knew he’d fucked up. But he also knew he was right on the fucking money.

She was just like him. Lonely. Desperate. But she was scared. She was scared, and that meant Ben had to show her that she wasn’t alone. He sure as hell wasn’t leaving her to rot here with Luke.

He stewed for an hour before he decided to drive into the village and stock up from the local shop. The shopkeeper recognised him and told him how handsome he’d become.

Not much had changed in seven years. Ben had changed.

Rey was still in her room when he got back. He knocked on her bedroom door, but she ignored him. After another hour he knocked again and left some food outside the door.

She didn’t come out for the rest of the day. Ben didn’t sleep. 

He heard her stirring in the morning and walked out onto the landing at the same time as her—desperate to apologise for his fuck up. 

She wouldn’t look at him. She pretended it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t talk to him.

But she walked with him.

Ben showed her his favourite beach. He tried to teach her how to skim stones, but she couldn’t do it, so they just ended up throwing rocks as far as they could.

Rey ate a lot. It made him happy. They sat together on the loveseat and watched one of Ben’s old DVDs that he’d left behind when he ran.

She didn’t pull away when he kissed her goodnight, but Ben knew—he just knew not to push it further.

Time passed.

Living with Rey was easy. He was in love with her. It hadn’t taken long, maybe three months for him to realise it, but maybe it had been love at first sight.

They shared a bathroom, so there were certain times that were more difficult than others. Ben saw her in a towel every day. He jerked off a lot. 

The moment their lips touched briefly every evening was the moment he lived for. She always kissed him back—sometimes sought his lips first—but never made it more. 

Until she did. 

And Ben’s heart was ready to burst and break at the same time at her tentative affection. He held himself back. There was plenty of time ahead for urgency. She needed this to be tender. He needed to be gentle with her. 

Gentleness had never been his forte, but that moment he would be whatever she needed.

The completeness he felt when he sank into her again was unreal. This was heaven. He moved inside her slowly, kissing her everywhere he could reach. Her lips, her jaw, her beautiful fucking throat—Christ—her perfect nipples, her hands.

She cried. She talked to him. She finally talked to him and the words just kept flowing, and finally Ben understood. And he cried thinking of her, tiny and alone. So many years alone. 

She would never be alone again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I have a few plot bunnies now from other Beatles songs, so I'll probably do a few more one shots based on those :)


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